I Hurt Myself Today

[Tom Harriman]

Tom swore under his breath as he clambered, one-armed and awkard, in through the appartment window. The other arm clung close to his chest, a crude bandage from a torn strip of fabric already soaked with his own blood. His bow and quiver slipped from his shoulder, arrows spilling out onto the bed. He didn't do anything to stop them - now wasn't the time.

Forcing the door from his bedroom open with the hand and shoulder of his good arm - damn thing was always sticking - his boots thudded against the floorboards as he crossed to the bathroom, unstrapping his bracers and unwinding his primative field dressing as he walked, and abandoning them all mid-floor. The light clunked on, the energy saving bulb bathing him in it's infuriatingly dim warm-up glow; he tugged on the shaving light as well, not that it made a huge amount of difference.

Of course, the arm that had been taken out was the dominant one: fate wouldn't have had it any other way. That made turning the taps all the more entertaining; he winced as water made contact with the knife wound that slashed through his arm, about an inch above where his bracer had been. The knife had been small, and it's wielder incompetant: the error had been all Tom; he'd misjudged a block, and the crook had managed to get in a lucky slash. One hit had been all Tom needed to take it down - he wasn't sure which hurt more: the wound to his arm, or the one to his pride.

The cut was long, but wasn't too deep: just a little flesh damage, and that would heal on it's own easily enough. The biggest risk right now was infection, and so despite the nagging pain - serves me right, I guess - he scrubbed away at the wound as best he could, and grabbed a fresh towel, sponging off the worst of the water. He'd need alcohol to sterilise, and a proper bandage from the first aid kit; in the kitchen, not the bathroom, because Alice had made some fuss about being more likely to need it after burning herself cooking than cutting herself shaving, or something to that effect.

He trugged out of the bathroom, completely oblivious to the noise he was making, and headed out into the appartment's main room. He glanced down at the towel that was doing a fantastic job of sucking as much blood out of his body as possible; probably ruined. It was one of Alice's too, he realised. She'd be pissed.

I'll buy her a new one.

All things being equal, he would have realised that the light in the lounge was on, but hadn't been when he'd entered the bathroom. He would have realised that, in the appartment he shared with Alice Kelly, marching around at 3am in army boots was not a sensible - nor popular - thing to be doing. He should have remembered that his self-enforced rule that none of his vigilante gear passed beyond his bedroom door was there for a reason.

It was too late now. Clad in pyjamas, and with her hair more than a little ruffled, his roommate Alice stood directly in his path, and stared. He looked down at his arm, at the towel, and then back to her. A sheepish look formed on his face. "I was running, and I fell down?" he tried.

[Alice Kelly]

As much as Alice wanted to reply with something witty, her sleep fogged mind was only capable of coming up with some quip about it being too early for Halloween or that she hadn't figured him to be in to the fetish club scene... neither one really seemed worthy of being vocalized.

"If you fell on pike, maybe." The words came out half-hearted, maybe she should have gone with the Halloween bit.

The sight of the blood soaked towel had her full attention. Well, about as much attention as one could muster when they found themselves rather rudely awakened with no coffee in site.

She couldn't be mad about it though, even if she wanted to be. Not that she really wanted to be... the sight of an injured friend, no matter how strangely he was dressed and the fact she didn't really need to get up in the morning for anything tossed that whole concept right out the window.

So Alice was left with just a basic feeling of how awkward the situation was. Her standing in nothing more than an oversized t-shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms she always tugged on in the case of needing to use the rest room in the middle of the night... and him, well... she wasn't quite sure how he was dressed.

Her wandering eyes eventually came to rest on the towel wrapped around his arm... Isn't that mine....? ... and then she let out a slow breath.

"You're going to drip on the floor."

[Tom Harriman]

Tom mustered a small, greatful smile. He supposed that, of all the times for Alice to stumble across his nocturnal activities, having it happen when she was too sleep-deprived and energy-drained to properly freak out was one of the better options.

Plus, she looked kinda cute all half-asleep, and ruffled, and baggy-dressed. The closest Tom had ever managed to get to encountering her in the morning had been her grunted response from behind the bedroom door to his shout of "Coffee's on!" as he headed out the door to work, or for the morning run that took the commute's place on weekends, and any days where he didn't manage to score a little work at the auto shop, or one of the local bars.

Not that he'd tell her she looked cute, of course; not tease her about it, either. Especially not when kitchen knives were in such easy reach.

Tom jabbed a finger into the controls of the coffee machine, kicking the contraption into life. Alice habitually loaded it up before she went to bed; Tom half-wondered if maybe she was secretly a mutant like he was, and that caffeine somehow fuelled her magical powers. Maybe late-night coffee wasn't such a good idea for her, but he could sure as hell do with one.

He reached up for the cupboard where the first aid kit was stowed, pulled out the case, and started to fumble with the latches. "So, which lie are you more likely to believe?" he called over his shoulder, struggling to accomplish the task one-handed. "Midnight cosplay convention, or Medieval-themed S&M bar?"

[Alice Kelly]

"Cos-wha?" She shook her head slightly before nudging Tom out of the way of the first aid kid. "Never mind. I don't think I want to know."

Even with a slightly dazed mind she managed to flick open the latches on the case and flip the lid open far quicker than she supposed Tom would manage at the moment. With that accomplished she went to an adjacent cabinet and pulled out a coffee cup, glanced at Tom, then grabbed another.

"I'd rather you didn't lie, but if you have to can you at least make it a good one?" The wait for the coffee seemed agonizing. Everything seemed like slow motion and it felt like her head was under water, a delightful side effect of medication and waking up unexpectedly.

[Tom Harriman]

"To be honest," he muttered, fumbling a wad of gauze and a pair of those irritatingly small scissors that everyone had in their first aid kit, and yet no one could actually use to cut anything without at least a few years of medical training. "Even if I told you the truth, you wouldn't believe me. So preposterous as all that sounds, it's probably more plausable than what really happened."

One advantage of the fact that he was still bleeding was that once applied, the gauze stuck sufficiently to the moisture from the wound to not slip off right away: long enough for him to grab a tightly wound roll of bandage from the med kit, and begin coiling it around his arm.

His eyes slumped closed for a moment, body overcome with tiredness - not just physical, but mental too: tired of having to lie, having to sneak, having to hide. He'd tell her if he could, even if was just for the sake of having someone else who knew. But if his criminal exploits weren't enough, finding out that she was living with a secret mutant - maybe not a secret from the Californian state government, but certainly a secret from her - would probably have her running for the hills in an instant.

To hell with it, he thought. Enough lies -

But as he turned and opened his mouth, his tongue chickened out. Instead, he gestured with his wounded arm, the bandage applied, but untied. "Help?"

[Alice Kelly]

Alice stared blankly at Tom for a moment before it kicked in and she quickly and neatly tied the bandage into place.

"Well at least I guess I should be thankful you aren't trying to tell me this is all just some weird dream I'm having." She stopped and looked at his outfit once more. "Then again..."

A small sigh left her as the sounds of the coffee finishing brewing slowly magnetized her way to the machine.

"Look, I honestly don't care what you do. It's your life and if ..." She gestured to him with the empty coffee mug in her hand, "that is what you want to go about... urhm... doing... more power to you. Just hope you're keeping yourself safe, you know. Medical bills are expensive."

She paused a moment before her fingertips touched the handle of the carafe and looked back over her shoulders at her room mate. "And don't think I'm lecturing or... trying to give advice. It's just that seeing you get hurt kinda sucks."

[Tom Harriman]

Tom offered a small smile, almost embarassed at her concern. For a moment, the wheels in his mind span without traction, absolutely no idea forming of what he could possibly say.

He resorted to his default kind of response. "Wait. You have dreams about me?"

He flashed her a little more of his smile, but it didn't last long; within a few moments his eyes had fallen away, settling firmly on the bandage on his arm. He spoke to that, instead of to her; thought it would make it easier that way. It didn't.

"Truth is -" He sighed. Frowned. Neither of those helped either. "Truth is, I'm a mutant, Alice." His eyes peered at her from beneath worried brows for an instant, before tumbling away again. "And I sort of... fight crime."

[Alice Kelly]

"Groovy."

It took a moment for her to realize that the deadpan way she had spoken might be seen as rude and she instantly felt ashamed.

"What I mean is..." Well what DO you mean, Alice?

Her mind grasped at straws, attempting to conjure up all of what she actually had meant. As much as she tried to keep her own issues secret, somewhat out of politeness and mostly out of the fact she didn't even begin to want to acknowledge it all, Tom's confession just didn't seem like that big of a deal.

Except that fighting crime bit...he had to be kidding about that.

"Wait how long have you known? About the mutant thing, not the desire to see how the vigilante life will treat you."

[Tom Harriman]

It took Tom a few minutes to respond; her reaction - and the notable lack of panic - had caught him off guard. Maybe it was the lack of caffeine that had dulled her brain, and as soon as she woke up a little more she'd start to realise the genuine implications. Or maybe it was -

Maybe she's just crazy? his subconscious prompted, helpfully. Tom ignored it.

"Back home," he replied, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder, as if that entire vague direction somehow represented the entire span of North America and the Atlantic, "I used to be in the Army. Did I ever tell you that?" He frowned, scrabbling at the thoughts in his mind to try and structure them in some sort of coherant order. "I was a Paratrooper, in fact. Deployed in Kosovo when it happened. Our convoy was hit. My men were injured. And I -"

He glanced around him, eyes settling on a glass perched beside the drainer. He reached out with his arm, and nudged with his powers, sending the tumbler skidding across the worktop to smash into the wall. "Except, you know. With a tank."

He glanced back to Alice with a sheepish smile. "That's a new towel and a new glass I owe you, huh?"

He looked away again, a hint of pain in his eyes - from the memories, not from his arm. "The Army wasn't too keen on having me around, truth be told. MI5 figured I was some kind of terrorist insurgent. Finally managed to convince them otherwise, but that was pretty much it for my career as a soldier. So I left; got a job working at a university in New York, and then, well..."

He winced. "Then it gets complicated."

[Alice Kelly]

"It always does..." She tried to keep herself sounding understanding while she tried to take everything in. The coffee that had finally found its way into the cup along with its preferred add-ins was helping. Somewhat.

Alice looked away from her roommate to the broken glass across the room. Seeing Tom's powers in person had caused a momentary sense of discomfort. She had always considered herself open minded but seeing the results of someone's genetic mutant in person still always caught her off-guard. At least he doesn't suddenly grow fur and hang upside down, right? The thought was followed by a mental scolding for even thinking such a thing.

Then again, Alice also had the sensation that it wasn't seeing a display of Tom's abilities that was upsetting. It was the fact that she was beginning to feel a nagging sensation that she should reciprocate the sharing of secrets. Tom was placing a certain amount of trust in her and she just couldn't help but feel that it was rude of her to keep silent herself...

She forced herself to drink more of the coffee to keep silent. It would work... for now.

[Tom Harriman]

Despite the occasional odd looks he glimpsed from Alice, it actually felt good to get some of it off his chest. Since his power had first manifested, he'd never really found anyone to confide in. His dad was unapproachable like always; his brother was a jerk; and while his sister would've gladly listened and then hugged him until he snapped in half, he didn't want to burden her with it. In New York, and since coming here, he'd spent his days keeping up appearences, and his nights jumping off rooftops; there'd never been time to talk. Never time to work out his feelings. Not really even time to make friends.

A melencholy laugh sounded inside his head. Maybe you should've taken the doctors' advice, and seen a shrink a long time ago.

He glanced down at himself, critically regarding his outfit. As if the revelation of his powers and past-time wasn't bad enough, standing in the kitchen with an extra from a low-budget Robin Hood movie probably wasn't helping. He fumbled with the fastenings, and tugged off the hooded leather; suddenly a self-conscious wave swept over him as he discovered how the tight-fit sleeveless shirt designed for insulation and ease of movement was a lot more revealing without his jacket than he'd realised.

He looked down at the jacket as it hung from his hands, fighting to control the squirming fledgeling of embarassment that was wriggling about in his stomach. His face scrunched up in a frown again; he couldn't bring himself to look up at Alice anymore. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice suddenly quiet.

[Alice Kelly]

"No."

It was a simple answer with a lot of overcomplicated explanations but in that moment Alice just couldn't bring herself to lie. But no sooner had the word left her than she instantly was looking for a way to avoid saying anything about herself. As much as the feeling of letting Tom know that she wanted to trust him as much as he apparently trusted her was persisting, part of her was still being stubborn about it all... and then there was the thought that maybe he needed to get this all off his chest rather than trying to make it about them or worse, directing it about herself.

The whole thing was ...well... just as Tom had said: complicated.

Alice took a deep breath suddenly and forced herself to hold her tongue.

"It's just... a lot to take in, you know? It's not that I mind, really I don't. You've been nothing but kind to me so what should I care if you're a mutant? It doesn't change who you are as far as I can tell." Aside from the whole ...dressing like the bastard child of Batman and Robin Hood thing. "I guess I just want to know what's up with the whole... going out at night fighting crime thing."

She allowed herself another moment to take a deep breath. "I just... don't get it. I mean, sure there's an unsolved crime rate and all, but the police try. I mean, you can't drive for more than 10 minutes without seeing one of their cars... They're doing what they can and get... paid to do it. Why the whole... vigilante thing?"

It was something she was genuinely curious about.

[Tom Harriman]

Tom's shoulders slumped as if his wrists had been encased in lead. "That's -"

- complicated, his subconscious finished for him; fortunately, his mouth didn't join in. We get it, Tom. It's complicated. Woe is you. Life is so hard.

He took a deep breath, and sighed heavily. "It started almost as a game, you know? Back in New York, I was spending my whole days either in the lab or in a classroom. My brain was happy as hell, engaged and firing away like crazy. But the rest of me?" He managed a shrug. "When you spend so long being a soldier, it's hard to just stop."

"I tried just fighting - martial arts clubs, and things like that. But it wasn't enough. It was fighting for the sake of fighting: that isn't why I joined the Army. That wasn't what my life was missing. I tried sports -" He let out a faint laugh. "- even hockey, since it seemed like a cross between the two. But it wasn't -"

He trailed off, frustration creasing his features: both remembered, and fresh frustration at his struggles at articulation. "A soldier without a cause is just a hug. So I did what any self-respecting guy with superpowers would do. I tried to be a hero."

He tugged at his shirt, peeling the sleeveless black number over his head, to reveal what he never allowed anyone to see: gunshot wounds, carved into his flesh like impact craters on some alien world; one in his shoulder, one in his chest. He stood silent for a few moments, unable to bring himself to say anymore; shame preventing him from meeting Alice's gaze.

"Bet you're thinking that should've been enough to stop me, right?" he managed eventually. Another shrug came, accompanied by a wince. "For a while it was. I came to Los Angeles. Got a place. Got a job. Met -" His voice faltered for a moment. "- you. And it was great. It felt... normal. After everything that happened, I was just glad to be a normal guy again. And I would have been happy to stay that way, if it weren't for the whole registration thing."

He stopped, a hand scrubbing across his tired features. When it fell away, he finally managed to look at Alice again, a note of exasperation creeping into his voice. "I had to do it, you know? I couldn't stand up in front of those kids day after day, telling them how important it was to be true to themselves and happy with who they are, and then keep such a big part of myself a secret. So I went out. I registered." His voice cracked. "And now here we are."

His body slumped again, and his eyes fell, energy draining from his body and into the floor. "It cost me my job. And this?" He mustered a small, sorrowful smile. "This seemed like the only way I could make a difference."

[Alice Kelly]

As he spoke, all the pieces started to fit into place. All those little things she found herself wondering about Tom, the inconsistencies, the things that most would write off that always nagged at the back of her mind... it all made sense.

And while Alice couldn't really agree with his decisions, especially after the wounds and harm he'd already sustained... there was still something to be said for watching out for others at the risk of yourself. Sure beat the hell out of running away from everything. It was admirable in a way... and pure madness in another.

"What happens if you get caught?"

It had to be said, even if it made Alice feel like she was just sounding like an older sister or a mother rather than just concerned roommate. The whole mutant issue was one big powder keg, the bit she had seen on the news about a recent rally in Downtown proved that point. But vigilante mutant? That seemed like just asking for trouble.

[Tom Harriman]

Tom offered and almost nonchallant shrug. "I'll jump off that bridge when I come to it?"

He knew he shouldn't be so blasé about it, but getting injured, getting caught: he just didn't think about it. There was no concern, nor fear. He didn't think that he was invulnerable - far from it, he knew from experience that he was anything but. Even so, he threw himself into danger time and time again: because he knew that if he did anything less, the hesitation was what would get him caught, or killed.

"Honestly, I haven't given it much thought," he answered, a little more seriously this time. "I know it's a risk, but I've always tried to live my life in hope, not in fear. What I do is- unlawful. But I still believe that it's the right thing to do. If the State of California wants to throw me in jail for stopping the crimes that the police weren't able to, that is their choice to make. Chosing action over inaction is mine."

All that said, Tom couldn't help a small smile. "It's sweet of you to worry, but you don't need to." A glint of mischief flashed in his eye. "I'm way too good at this to get caught."

[Alice Kelly]

It wasn't what she wanted to hear. But then again when you got right down to it, Alice might have been perfectly happy if she had managed to just sleep through the night and have never found out about any of this at all.

The door was opened though, to trust that Tom knew what he was doing enough to not find herself stressing out every time he went out for the evening on whether he was even going to be coming back or not. It was enough of an opening that she felt made up for the lack of wanting to say anything that would put attention on her at that moment. At least, it was enough of a balance struck in her mind that the constant nudge towards revealing her own secrets was silenced.

Maybe it was the fact she felt like she could finally relax, or maybe it was just the coffee, but there was no way in hell she was going to let his final little quip pass.

Her eyes focused directly on his bandaged arm, lingering there before she motioned to the scars on his chest from the bullets. "Oh, yes, obviously there's no need to worry."

[Tom Harriman]

"Oh, I see," he countered, fighting to stop his smile from growing too much.

He dumped his shirt and jacket on the counter behind him, and let his arms fold across his chest, nudging himself forward enough to escape the temptation of leaning back against the worktop. "Poking fun at an injured man? Classy."

He let the pretense of over-confidence linger for a moment or two longer, before the smile faded away from his face. He edged a little closer: not invading Alice's space, but enough movement in the small kitchen to transition from being on the opposite side of the room to standing in front of her. His eyes captured her gaze, and shone with sincerity as he peered into hers. "I will be okay," he said softly, words escaping as a promise. "I may come back with the odd few scuffs and holes, but I'll always be in one piece."

"Besides -" A hint of his smile crept back on my face. "My awesome roommate is a pretty good incentive to make sure nothing bad happens."

[Alice Kelly]

She nearly choked on her cup of coffee, the swallow barely contained as it went down painfully. She couldn't tell if she was blushing or not, but the sudden warm sensation around her neck and cheeks probably meant that she was. It felt horrible.

"Heh..."

The half laugh was all she could muster at first, letting a slightly awkward silence pass between them. With another small forced laugh she pushed her free hand through her hair and while shaking her head slightly, walked out of the kitchen towards the chesterfield and let herself drop down onto it.

"You know flattery gets you no where, right?"

[Tom Harriman]

Tom grinned - he couldn't help himself. It may have been an underhanded tactic, but it looked like enough to drag Alice away from the brink of a total freak-out for at least a few seconds. And plus, Alice was always cute when she blushed... so, you know. That was a bonus.

Tom watched as she deposited herself tiredly on the crouch, fingertips absently scratching at the edge of his bandage. It felt cold all of a sudden, and in one swoop he was reminded not only of his minimal attire, also but of the fact that he'd just climbed through a window and had neglected to close it behind him.

"I," he announced, "Am going to go find a shirt. And since my blood sugar is low, I'm going for take-out. Want anything?" He offered her his most charming smile. "Lady's choice."

[Alice Kelly]

3 am... nothing much was open at that time, even in Los Angeles. It was something Alice had found out much to her dismay within the first week of moving to the city. Nope, not much stayed open except 7-11s and a few fast food joints. A quick glance at the both of them put the drive-through as the preferred option.

Which meant either Jack in The Box for some so horrible-they're-good tacos or...

"McDonalds." Her shoulders shrugged as she expected an amused look to come from Tom. "What? They're french fries are comfort food evilness."